The Limit

THE LIMIT. EVERYTHING IS IN MOTION.

My thoughts swirl in my mind
Like dry leaves fly before a hurricane
It is difficult to hold on to my thoughts, they pass, fleeting
Sometimes one lingers, in the calm of a dream
I feel my solitude deeply, in the void of the cosmos
Space cannot fill you, time cannot hold you
In the stillness there is always movement.

All of the cosmos is a great void
Everything in space is static and in movement
Everything is united by invisible threads
Which join the disparate feelings of nature and human nature
Where is the limit of these feelings?
The limit of thought, of the artist’s hand,
Of reality, of reason, of lies, of colour,
Of virtue, of sin, of life, of death
Is an edge a limit or a continuation?

When I work I want my vision to be in every stroke…
In my work I want to create a world far beyond my thoughts,
Of putting words and images to a concrete notion,
To distinguish between the images which come to my mind,
Always traveling on the limits of the unknown,
An unknown which overwhelms, which cries out, which is afraid,
Which provokes me, piques my curiosity,
Which makes me dare, which makes me doubt,
Which maddens me with longing to know the unknown…

And sometimes, unexpectedly, I find new paths, looking back at me.

Everything is in motion.